She scoffed and tossed her phone on the futon. Oh, he could look at her on social media, but he couldn’t send her a message and explain himself. She laughed. He probably just liked the fact that she was wearing his lipstick.
“Wonder if he was with her when he was all up and down my Facebook page,” she muttered.
Ever think that they aren’t together and you’re overreacting?
Sylvie looked around because she could’ve sworn she’d heard her dad’s voice saying those words. “I’m losing my mind, I need to get out of here.”
She headed for the bathroom and took a quick shower. She started to call Myra and see if she could go to the Sweet Spot this morning, but she decided to explore the neighborhood. She dressed in a white romper and her favorite walking shoes. The weather in London was crisp and warm and no humidity, and Sylvie was in love and hungry. Since she hadn’t tried some of the restaurants in the neighborhood, Sylvie dipped into a corner café for breakfast. The place was half full, but she had been lucky enough to snag a table near the window, which looked out over the street.
“Good morning, what can I start you off with today?” the waiter asked.
“This is my first morning having a real English breakfast. What would you suggest?”
“Aww, I would be remiss if I didn’t offer you a fry-up.”
“What’s that?”
“A traditional breakfast that will keep you energized all day: bacon, eggs, grilled tomatoes, beans, fried mushrooms, and bangers. Then you have your choice of fried bread or buttery toast.”
Sylvie raised her right eyebrow. “That sounds like a lot of food, but I’ll try it.”
“And to drink? We have freshly squeezed orange juice and a wonderful pineapple and cranberry mix. Of course there’s tea and coffee if you’d like.”
“I’m going to go with the orange juice and coffee, a flat white actually.”
“Good choice. I’ll put your order in and be back with your drinks.”
Alone at the table, Sylvie regretted not bringing a book. But when she reached down in her bag, she was happy to find a sketchpad. A little bit of work wouldn’t hurt. When she opened the book and saw the layout she’d drawn of Erik’s house, she closed it and decided to scroll through social media. She got bored after a few minutes and pulled the pad out again.
Wonder what Ingrid is going to come up with for his place? Stop it. What that man does is no longer your concern.
* * *
Erik hated waiting in airports. But today’s wait was even more annoying because he wanted to be in London sooner rather than later. And honestly, he wanted to make sure that every man passing his Sylvie knew that she was spoken for, that her American man had come to take her heart back across the pond where it belonged. Granted, he’d love to be taking her back with him, but he knew she had to handle her business.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. We will begin boarding flight 4532 to London in twenty minutes. Our plane was delayed because we had a sick flyer and we needed to disinfect the plane for your safety. We apologize for any inconvenience this delay has caused.”
Erik shook his head. This delay was testing his patience like the SATs. But he wasn’t going to turn back. Not until he had Sylvie in his arms again. Thanks to her geotags on social media, he’d drawn a map of her movements. It wasn’t lost on him how easy it was to find her. In the back of his mind, he wanted to believe that she was dropping digital breadcrumbs for him to follow. But when she’d left Atlanta, she hadn’t said two words to him, so it was just wishful thinking.
Once the plane started boarding, Erik said a silent prayer of thanks for his brother having priority seating. He took a window seat and leaned his head against the window, hoping to catch a nap on the eight-hour flight. He knew when he touched down in London it was going to be late evening and he hadn’t even found a hotel yet. Sitting up, he pulled his carry-on bag from underneath the front seat and pulled out his iPad. He googled Marylebone hotels. Landmark London popped up immediately and Erik quickly booked a room before the flight crew told everyone to place their electronics in airplane mode. Leaning on the window, Erik closed his eyes and counted down the hours to when he’d land in London.
He knew he needed to find roses. As cliché as it seemed, he had to give her flowers because roses always meant love to him. That’s why he’d never wanted to give them to any other woman. But Sylvie wasn’t like any other woman. From their first encounter to the last time he felt her lips against his, he couldn’t get her off his mind, out of his system or his heart. Erik just didn’t understand what had happened to make her disappear. Two months was a long time to be away from the woman who stole his heart.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are preparing for takeoff. Please shut off all electronic devices or place them in airplane mode. Make sure your seats are in the upright position and your seat belt is securely fastened. We expect to land at Heathrow in eight hours.”
Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Part of him wondered what he would find when the plane landed.
London, England
Sylvie’s feet were aching by the time she made it home. She’d hit all of the tourist attractions, including Madame Tussauds, where she took pictures with some of the famous wax statues—especially the new duchess. She texted the picture to Olivia, then posted it on Facebook: #HangingwithRoyalty.
Then she took the Tube for the first time and headed to Westminster for a tour on a vintage London bus. As she took more pictures and uploaded them to social media, Sylvie noticed that she had been sharing her location with her pictures. She shivered, then thanked God that she didn’t have any stalkers. Still, she’d turned her location settings off and then headed home. She stopped at the corner café again for a dinner of Yorkshire pudding, peas and chips. Sylvie promised herself that when she returned to Atlanta she was going to give the vegan thing another go.
Kicking her shoes off at the door, she crossed over to her futon and plopped down. Tomorrow, she’d be able to tell Myra that she spent her day soaking up London, and now she could work without interruptions. Tonight, she was going to veg out, listen to some jazz, and try not to think about Erik Jordan.
Leaning back on the futon with the music blasting, she was about to close her eyes when her phone rang.
“Hello,” she said with a faux British accent.
“Don’t do that,” Olivia said. “Don’t be Madonna up in here.”
“Whatever. How much is this call going to cost us? Well, you, actually.” Sylvie had gotten a new number while she was in London because the international plan on her stateside phone was beyond expensive.
“Logan reminded me that he has an international plan on his phone. I could’ve been harassing you for months.”
“Gee, thanks. How are you, though?”
“Great. And you?”
“Umm, tired. Spent the day playing tourist. You got my picture from Madame Tussauds, right?”
“It was cute. Glad you’re having fun and finally turned off those geotags on social media.”
“New phone, forgot about those settings.”
“You look like you’re having a good time over there. Really loved that red dress and your Pam Grier Afro. You know who else was impressed. . .”
“If this is where you start talking about Erik, I’m going to hang up on you.”
“Fine, hang up if you want to, but at least let me tell you some great news.”
“What’s that?”
“I saved a lot of money when I switched my car insurance to GEICO.”
Sylvie sighed. “I really hate you right now.”
“Seriously, I think I’m pregnant.”
“I’m so happy for you and Logan.”
“And that means we’re going to have to move the wedding up, so I hope that you and Erik can get your shit together and not ruin my big day.”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “There you go. I don’t want to talk about that man. Have you seen him and his new
woman?”
“New woman? What are you talking about?”
She expelled another frustrated breath. “Olivia, you don’t have to try and spare my feelings. I know he and Ingrid are seeing each other.”
“Wow. Where did you get such an idea?”
Sylvie told her friend about her encounter with Erik’s assistant and how she’d told her that Erik and Ingrid had left together.
“I’d gone to his office to apologize for allowing my issues to get in our way and I was proven right. So, I know you’re about to marry his brother and we’re—”
“Sylvia Elaine Gates, you have never been more wrong about anything in your life. I mean, just wrong like two left shoes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Erik and Ingrid are not together. Not at all.”
“Whatever,” Sylvie snapped. “He left his office in the middle of the day with her. I know what that means.”
“She’s his sister.”
Sylvie’s mouth dropped open and she nearly let the phone slip from her hands. “How—What?”
“So, you mean to tell me that you’ve been loud and wrong for two months because you thought he was with Ingrid? You need to call him.”
She heard Logan tell Olivia to mind her business. “And he’s the reason why I never told you. But you should call him.”
“I would, but I’m guessing it’s too late. The only thing he’s done since I’ve been here is like my picture.”
Olivia laughed. “At least he listens to me. I’ve got to go. Miss Yvonne and I are going to have breakfast.”
“This time difference is still taking a lot to get used to. Make sure you get some bangers.”
“Some what?”
“Sausage.”
“Umm, let me find out you’ve given up on this vegan lifestyle.”
“When in Rome . . .”
“Chick, you’re in London and you’re just not about that plant-based lifestyle.”
“Once I return home, I’m all about it.” Sylvie yawned. “But right now, I’m getting in this bed for a mid-day nap.”
“All right. We’ll talk soon.”
After hanging up with her friend, Sylvie turned the music up and lay back on the futon, thinking about how she was going to be able to fix this thing with Erik. Was it too late? Or did she have a chance?
* * *
Jet-lagged didn’t describe how Erik felt. He felt as if he’d dragged the jet by his teeth with his eyes closed. Standing at the front desk, all Erik wanted was to go to sleep. His body needed to adjust to the time change and get his game plan together.
“Good evening, Mr. Jordan,” the front-desk clerk said after he gave her his reservation number. “We’ll have someone take your luggage up to your room.”
Erik tapped his backpack. “This is all I have. Just point me in the direction of the bed.”
The woman smiled at him and gave him directions to his room. Once he got on the elevator, he closed his eyes and nearly went to sleep standing up. The doors to the elevator opened and he was happy to see that he had a short walk to his room.
Erik didn’t take in the grandeur of the room. He just dropped his bag on the end of the bed and fell down on top of it. As he slept, he dreamed of seeing Sylvie walking down the road and calling her name. She’d turn around and run into his arms. Their lips would meet in a hot kiss as raindrops fell gently on them. The thought of kissing Sylvie made him sit straight up in the bed.
Was it really going to be that easy to win his woman back?
Chapter 27
Morning came too soon for Erik. His body needed another day to sleep. But his mind was ready to find Sylvie. He pulled himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. As he stood underneath the warm spray, Erik thought about what he was going to say when he found her. Didn’t he deserve an explanation for her actions? Erik knew he hadn’t done anything to make her think what he felt wasn’t real. If he’d left any doubt in her mind about how he felt for her, he was going to fix that now. Well, as soon as he found her.
As he dressed, the in-room phone rang. Crossing over to the nightstand, he picked up the handset. “Hello?”
“Mr. Jordan, this is the front desk. Would you like breakfast delivered to you?”
“No thank you. But I do have a question. Where can I rent a car from?”
“I can take care of that for you. Do you want a luxury or an economy vehicle?”
“If you can find me a red Jaguar, I’d be forever grateful.”
The woman laughed. “Living a James Bond fantasy?”
“Only if I get the girl in the end.”
“I’ll call you when everything is arranged. It could take a half hour. Are you sure you don’t want breakfast sent up?”
“Sure, why not. Just send me your most popular dish and some black coffee.”
“Yes sir,” she said.
Erik ended the call and dressed in a pair of black slacks and a formfitting long sleeve red T-shirt. He was ready to find his woman.
* * *
Sylvie woke up around six and decided to take a jog. Then she checked the weather and decided that it was too cold for this Southern belle to pretend she liked running. She pulled the covers back around her and went back to sleep.
When her alarm blared at her, she got up and showered. Sylvie spent a little too much time underneath the warm spray and ended up rushing to dry off and dress because she was about to be running late.
As she left the building, she noticed a new doorman working. “Good morning,” she said as she headed out the door.
“Good morning, and this is the last time you touch the door handle, all right?” He smiled as he followed her and grabbed the door to hold it open for her.
“Thanks. You’re such a gentleman.”
He tipped his hat with his free hand. “Just doing my job, madame.”
Sylvie fought the urge to bow to him. Talk about being an American feeding on stereotypes. So she just smiled and left. As she walked out to her Fiat, she caught a glimpse of a red Jaguar circling the block. The car made her smile and miss her classic car. The first thing she was going to do when she got home was get it repaired and take a long drive to Charleston, South Carolina. She owed her mother a visit, and it would be nice to see some of the sights and get ideas for new projects.
Okay, maybe she was thinking about going to Charleston to avoid Erik and having to face up to her huge mistake. She couldn’t deny that it would serve her right if he didn’t want to see her again.
Ingrid was his sister, not his lover. She’d been the biggest fool for not even giving him a chance to explain why they’d left the office together.
It’s true what they say about assuming. Sylvie slid into the car and started it up. As she pulled away from the curb, she saw that Jag again. Must be a popular car, she thought.
Once again, she slowed down near the fashion academy and watched the different creations from the students at the school. Today must have been a business-wear day. But when she saw a woman dressed in a formfitting floral pantsuit, Sylvie knew she needed to meet the designer. A horn blew behind her and Sylvie pulled into one of the lots and chased the girl in the floral.
* * *
Erik walked up to the entrance of what he assumed was Sylvie’s building. Before he could touch the doorknob, a bulky doorman opened the door. “Good morning, sir, are you a resident?”
Erik smiled. “No, I’m not. Actually, I’m looking for one of your residents.”
“Are you a bobby?”
“A what?”
“My bad, you’re an American. Are you a police officer or the FBI?”
Erik sighed. “No, I’m looking for the love of my life.”
The doorman took a step back. “This isn’t a brothel. And we don’t hand over our residents’ information to strangers.”
“Listen, her name is Sylvie—Sylvia Gates.”
“You don’t even know her name. Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
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The last thing Erik wanted to do was leave or cause a scene. However, he couldn’t do both. He’d leave and go to the next stop he had on his cobbled-together map.
“Sir,” the doorman called out. “I have my eye on you. Don’t come back here starting trouble.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Thanks for keeping my lady safe.” Erik gave him a mock salute, then jogged over to his rented Jag.
The restaurant where Sylvie had posted most of her pictures from was about four miles from the building that he assumed she lived in. All he could do was hope that she was at the building and he wouldn’t have to go back to her apartment, because it was clear he wouldn’t be getting in.
He parked his vehicle across from the building that would be the Sweet Spot UK. He could already see Sylvie’s hand in the design of the window. She made art and he loved it. She’d done the same thing with his business and his heart. Now, he just needed to know if he could make this thing last forever. Sitting in the car, he wondered if he did have the look of a stalker right now while he waited for her. Not wanting to deal with a real bobby, Erik got out of the car and started walking to drink in some of the scenery of the area. It seemed fitting that Sylvie settled here. He imagined her hanging out in the park, sipping tea and fighting the English fellows off with a stick. What if the guy in her Facebook picture had captured her heart with that damned accent?
Erik stopped walking and realized that he hadn’t gotten the roses yet. He saw a Marylebone flower shop and decided that fate had led him to this place. As he walked up to the counter, he wondered, did Sylvie even like roses?
* * *
Sylvie smiled as she adjusted her floral pants and was happy that her red shoes matched the roses in the suit. The young designer had been wearing her own suit and was thrilled that someone wanted to buy the suit that her instructor had called an abomination. Sylvie hadn’t even questioned the exchange rate for US cash when she handed the girl three one-hundred-dollar bills.
This suit made her feel powerful, and she resolved to call Erik today and tell him how wrong she was about everything, and hope that he would forgive her. But right now, she was going to walk into the Sweet Spot and make some magic. Heading for her car, she sped down the road and made it to the building and was surprised to see the red Jaguar parked across the street.
Tempted at Midnight Page 25